Concrete Constellations
by ksiegfried
Summary: This story is set immediately after the season one episode Solitudes. Jack is being a cranky patient with all of his injuries and it is up to Sam to give him an attitude adjustment.


Title: Concrete Constellations   
Series: Stargate SG-1  
Author: K. Siegfried (January 2001)  
Category: Comedy, smidgen of Romance, S&J Friendship.  
Spoilers: Solitudes  
Season Info: Season One  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: This story is set immediately after the season one episode Solitudes.  
Jack is being a cranky patient with all of his injuries and it is up to Sam to  
give him an attitude adjustment.  
  
Disclaimer: STARGATE SG-1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II)  
Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko  
Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money  
exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original  
characters, situations and story are the property of the author. This story may  
not be posted elsewhere without the concent of the author.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Pushing the tray table closer, she held out a fork after rearranging the items  
on his plate. Small bowls held steamed beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, meat  
stew, and applesauce. It was what everyone else on base ate for dinner and she  
had it specially brought to the infirmary just for him. Once she had managed to  
get him hydrated and his glucose levels back to normal, it was time for him to  
try eating solid food again.  
  
"Colonel O'Neill, there are only so many days I can keep you on a liquid diet,  
and that day was up yesterday. You need to eat something." Doctor Janet Fraiser  
used her most forceful tone she reserved for the stubborn patients; the man  
lying in front of her the hardest case of all.  
  
"Janet, I told you I wasn't hungry." Mumbling miserably, Jack O'Neill kept his  
attention focused on the magazine in his lap. The article on environmental  
pollutants suddenly became very interesting. "Don't you have some other patient  
to torment, Doctor?"  
  
Her growl was almost audible, dropping the fork onto the tray before she spun  
on a heel, retreating from the room. Glumly he smirked, enjoying the privacy to  
allow himself a groan of pain. Slowly reaching down his right side, he ineptly  
adjusted the pillows that propped up the cast enclosing his leg. His breath  
caught in his throat as the movement seized his sides, spasming the muscles  
over his broken ribs. Everything throbbed; being a human Popsicle in the ice  
chest of a cave had done that to him. Closing his eyes, he tried to slow his  
heartbeat-- to slow the flow of blood to the parts that hurt the most in an  
attempt to ease his pain.  
  
It didn't help. Rolling up the magazine, he curled his hand around it in a  
fist, not caring if it inflamed his freezer burned knuckles. All he wanted was  
a distraction, something to get his mind off the agony.  
  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
  
"If he makes one more of my nurses drop a shift, I am going to murder him!"  
Janet fumed. "Better yet, I'm gonna toss him outside without a pain killer in  
sight!"  
  
Her patient flinched as the fingers on her face pressed harder than she would  
have liked. Showing her disapproval with a moan, she backed away slightly, as  
far as her position on the side of the gurney would allow.  
  
"Sorry." Apologizing, she squeezed on a small vial, emptying more ointment out  
on her patient's cheek. "I don't know what to do with him, Sam."  
  
Captain Carter closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as Janet rubbed the ointment  
into the abrasions on her face. Besides a few scrapes, she had also sustained  
severe thermal burns around her eyes and the tip of her nose from the extreme  
cold. Her chapped lips would heal with a few weeks worth of lip balm treatment.  
  
"Poor Daniel. He went in to visit him earlier and nearly got his head bit off  
for his efforts." Janet shook her head, reaching to take up one of Sam's hands.  
  
"I know, I heard." That was gratitude; to yell at the one responsible for  
figuring out what was going on with the two Gates in enough time to save them  
before they both were dead. Sam had consoled Daniel after he returned from  
stopping by to see Jack, making the excuse that it was his injuries talking.  
  
"Do you have any ideas, because I'm all ears." Janet smeared a fingertip's  
worth of the ointment on Sam's chafed knuckles. "I'm about an inch away from  
hitting him upside the head with something hard."  
  
"Let me do that." A grin spread over Sam's rough lips. "I'm sure the General  
would be more forgiving in my case than yours, with that oath you took and  
all."  
  
"No, you'd enjoy it too much." The Doctor attended to the Captain's other hand,  
giving her a cheeky smile.  
  
Thinking seriously, Sam pondered Janet's question. What could she do for the  
Colonel to get him out of his apparent wallowing in self-pity? She wanted to  
forget the entire thing as badly as she assumed he did, but he couldn't  
continue annoying everyone around him. In a small way her mind figured it would  
be a good idea to repay him for not finding a way out. He had depended on her  
and she failed him miserably, only left with the option to comfort him in what  
she believed would be the last few hours of their lives.  
  
"I think I might have an idea." Leaning forward, Sam slid off the gurney when  
Janet had finished. "Give me an hour or so to get things lined up and then  
you'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand when I'm through."  
  
"Oh, I like it already." Janet smiled, escorting Sam from the infirmary.  
  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
  
"Come back to break the other leg and try to splint it?" He stated cruelly, not  
bothering to look up at her. His demands for more magazines had finally come  
through, and he promptly began to thumb through them. Peripherally he saw her  
spreading something out on the floor.  
  
"No, sir." Despite his tone, she forced herself to sound pleasant. "Doctor  
Fraiser has allowed me the chance to help you out of your foul mood before she  
releases you without any pain medication."  
  
"And what happens if I particularly like my foul mood, Carter?" Out of the  
corner of his eye, he glanced at the Captain, his curiosity beginning to rise  
as she began to stack pillows on the blanket she had laid down.  
  
"You will be enjoying it alone, at home, sir." Once her back was turned to him,  
she permitted herself a smile as she heard him grunt defiantly. "She tells me  
you haven't been eating, Colonel."  
  
"Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" The pages of the  
magazine turned in rapid succession, the waxy sheets crinkling beneath his  
hands. He caught the glimpse of a wicker basket as she crouched over the  
pillows.  
  
"Still quite intact. She didn't tell me why you weren't eating, sir." Plates  
chinked with silverware, and his eyebrow arched in interest. "I thought perhaps  
it was her dietary choices you were questioning, so I took it upon myself to  
pick up some take out, all of which Janet assures me, will be quite compatible  
with your delicate constitution these days."  
  
Finally he allowed her the satisfaction of his attention, lifting his head from  
the magazine to look at her. Sam smiled as she pushed up her rolled sleeves to  
her elbows. Idly she swiped a lock of blonde hair behind her ear before  
clasping her hands behind her back.  
  
"All right, on the floor, if you would, sir." With a slight nod of her head,  
Sam indicated the blanket.  
  
"What?" The magazine closed on his lap. He glared at her in astonishment. What  
was she expecting him to do in his condition?  
  
"You heard me, sir. Chop, chop." Her hands slipped from behind her back to clap  
before pointing to the blanket. Gingerly he propped himself up, still not  
believing his ears.  
  
"Chop, chop, Captain? Since when do you address a commanding officer with that  
tone?" He tried to narrow his gaze at her in a demeaning manner, but the large  
purplish welt on the right side of his face kept it from looking as menacing as  
he would have liked.  
  
"My apologies, sir." It was time for her to change tactics; perhaps something  
subtler would get him out of the infirmary bed. Crouching over the makeshift  
picnic, she began to remove the lids to the food she had brought, fanning the  
aroma in his direction slightly. "Oh, this smells heavenly."  
  
"What...what is it?" His resolve finally gave out as the odor wafted up to his  
position on the bed. She was right; it did smell delicious. Lifting himself up,  
he tried to peer over her. Suddenly he found his mouth watering and his stomach  
churning.  
  
"You'll have to come down here to find out, sir." Sam had him; her smile told  
him as much. Exasperated, Jack sighed as heavily as his ribs would allow,  
shaking his head.  
  
"All right then, Carter. You're going to have to help me." Reaching out to her  
with a hand like a child to a mother, he waited for her to stand up again. She  
took his hand, trying to hold back the gloating look on her face. With some  
effort, Sam finally had him standing before her on the floor, hopping slightly  
to keep his weight off the cast. A blush of embarrassment flushed his cheeks as  
he tried to remain standing and keep the back of his gown closed at the same  
time. Sensing his apparent distress about his state of undress, she assisted  
him into his robe.  
  
Switching sides to balance the leg between them, she held Jack up by the waist  
of his robe, walking him over to the blankets. With some wrangling, they  
managed to settle him on the floor without hurting his ribs or his leg too  
much. He had his own bed of pillows beneath him, cushioning against the tile  
floor. Sam adjusted the ones under his leg and those that propped him into a  
sitting position.  
  
"Comfy, Colonel?" He merely grumbled an answer, his attention more focused on  
the containers of food.  
  
"I'm down here. That was my part of the bargain. Now, what do you have?" Jack  
tried to sound bitter, fidgeting as if annoyed.  
  
"Spaghetti with marinara, grilled shrimp and vegetables, ravioli with spinach  
and ricotta, and fruit salad." Sam passed each container beneath his nose as  
she told him of its contents, smiling as they held his attention. "And if  
you're a good Colonel, I might even share a sip or two of my wine with you."  
  
Sam saw the question on Jack's face when she looked at him, her eyes locking  
with his. A small smile stretched his lips as he glanced between Sam and the  
food, not sure what to think. Why was she being so nice to him, and why was her  
plan to change his mood working?  
  
"Better than soup, wouldn't you say?" She sat cross-legged beside him and  
reached out to pick up one of the plates, scooping up small portions from each  
of the containers. Handing the Colonel the plate, a set of silverware, and a  
napkin, she poured a mug of ice water from a thermos and placed it within  
reach.  
  
"Don't know about that. Those MRE's can be pretty tasty." Jack tried to keep a  
straight face as he raised the plate, picking up his fork. Carefully he cut one  
of the ravioli in half before sloshing it about in the marinara sauce from the  
spaghetti. Gingerly he placed it between his chapped lips, trying not to touch  
the spicy sauce to them. Chewing slowly, he savored, then swallowed.  
  
Sam was busying herself with the small bottle of wine she had brought, digging  
out the Swiss Army knife from her pocket. Opening the corkscrew tool, she  
drilled it into the cork and slowly popped open the bottle. The blush colored  
wine gurgled out into a coffee mug.  
  
"How very Epicurean, Sam." She giggled as she began to dish out her dinner.  
Taking a sip of the wine, she leaned over her plate in her lap and began to  
eat.  
  
"She's just trying to help you, you know, sir."  
  
"Who you talking about?" Jack muttered around a mouthful of shrimp.  
  
"Janet." Accusatorily, Sam pointed her fork at him while she chewed. "And her  
nurses. She told me you were being overly obstinate."  
  
"Moi? Obstinate? Never." Sam tried not to expel wine through her nose as she  
snorted. "I have been my usual charming self."  
  
"Forgive me if I don't believe you."  
  
"Believe what you will." Eyeing her mug of wine, he whimpered slightly. She  
paused chewing slightly and looked at him, finally understanding what he was  
getting at. Rolling her eyes, she reached into the basket and pulled out  
another mug, this time pouring only a few mouthfuls of wine into it.  
  
"I can only give you a little bit. It would interact adversely with your  
medication." Turning the mug in her hand, she extended it towards him handle  
first. Grasping it, he continued to hold it out, waiting for her to pick up her  
own mug.  
  
"To warm tropical beaches and farmer's tans." Sam laughed and gladly touched  
her mug to his, taking a sip of wine to finish the toast.  
  
Glancing over at her dining partner, she frowned, noticing how little he had  
actually eaten. He spent most of the time pushing the food around his plate,  
rearranging its placement as if he could make it disappear. His brow crinkled  
and he slid down on the pillows, sighing softly.  
  
"You okay, sir?"  
  
"Yeah." It was a long moment before Jack replied, slowly lifting his fork to  
his mouth, placing a skewered grape on his tongue. Sam didn't believe him,  
watching as he forced himself to eat.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yes, Carter. I'm fine." He spoke a little more aggressively than he had  
intended, and he carefully set down his plate. Picking up the mug of water, he  
took a long drink. She fell into silence once more, eating what was left of her  
spaghetti.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bark at you, Sam."  
  
"That's okay."  
  
"No, its not." He set down his mug again. "I know you're trying...maybe this  
isn't a good time."  
  
Silently she cursed herself. Sam didn't know why she had been so blind to his  
game; acting like a jerk was a front for how much pain he was in. Jack was the  
type to suffer in silence, wanting to be left alone to heal. She should have  
been the one to feel guilty and desire to be isolated.  
  
Reaching out, Sam took his half eaten dinner from his hands, moving aside the  
mugs and food containers so nothing stood between them. He opened his mouth to  
protest, but she hushed him, gently pulling out a few pillows from beneath his  
body. Slowly he began to degrade to horizontal.  
  
"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" Jack asked, suddenly terrified without  
knowing why.  
  
"Be quiet. Just close your eyes, Colonel." Looking down at him, Sam smiled.  
Slowly he complied, trying to relax into the pillows. He heard her shuffling  
about, her boots moving over the tiles. The sudden rattle of wheels scraping  
against the floor startled him and he hazarded slightly opening an eye. She was  
moving the tray table closer.  
  
"Keep them closed, please." Jack frowned, detesting to be left in the dark. The  
ambient light behind his eyelids suddenly disappeared as he heard her at the  
light switch. He felt her lie down beside him, curling closer. What was she  
planning?  
  
"Imagine if you will, Colonel Jack O'Neill on his roof with his telescope." Sam  
whispered, her mouth close to his ear. Involuntarily, he shivered.  
  
"What?" Jack asked, nearly laughing. Turning his head towards her, he almost  
opened his eyes, but she prevented it with her hand squeezing his arm.  
  
"Just humor me, would you? Imagine Colonel Jack O'Neill on his roof with his  
telescope. What does he see?" Softly she began to caress the terry cloth fabric  
of the robe on his arm, soothing him. He found it suddenly hard to concentrate.  
  
"The neighbor's dog relieving himself in my backyard again." Stifling a giggle,  
he yawned.  
  
"In the sky, Colonel."  
  
"Well, you didn't specify."  
  
"With your telescope."  
  
"You just said 'on your roof' you didn't necessarily say-"  
  
"Colonel!" He laughed and immediately moaned as the motion hurt his ribs.  
  
"Okay, okay." Settling again, Jack turned his head, feeling a few wisps of her  
hair brush against his chin. Without even trying he took a breath of her scent,  
enjoying the perfume of her shampoo. Gradually he began to feel himself let go.  
"With any luck, it would be a clear night. In winter, there might even be a  
little twinkling."  
  
"Go on." Sam prompted, her hand reaching down to stroke actual flesh; her  
fingers slid across the back of his wrist.  
  
"The winter sky is probably my favorite, so I'll describe that." Clearing his  
throat, Jack pictured the sky in his mind as he had seen it hundreds of times  
before. "Besides Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia is pretty easy to pick out due to her  
closeness to the pole star. She kinda looks like a sideways 'W'. And there's  
always Orion. He's usually one most people can pick out right away. Near him  
there's a nice cluster called the Pleiades. Only about seven stars can be seen  
without assistance on that one."  
  
Sam felt him relax as he talked, his speech getting softer as he continued to  
describe the stars. She only half listened, more intent to calm him than listen  
to his astronomy lesson. He even moved at one point, sliding down on the  
pillows so he could rest his chin against the top of her head. The richness of  
his voice reverberated through her body and she found herself getting sleepy.  
  
"Jack, open your eyes." She interrupted, a smile spreading her mouth in the  
darkness. He gasped as he gazed up at the concrete ceiling, illuminated by  
thousands of tiny points of light. His eyes searched over the pattern, finally  
realizing it was a display of the constellations he had just described. The  
projection came from a small orb on the tray table, an intense light escaping  
through holes poked into the shell. Only a small bit of glare came from the  
shade of the fluorescent lights, the etched glass splitting the light like a  
prism giving the star display a ethereal feel.  
  
"Oh, wow." Finding her hand, Jack gave it a squeeze. He felt like a heel for  
taking his frustrations out on every one else. Janet, the nurses, Daniel, and  
then Sam. Staring at the sky that was the one thing that had centered him  
through so much, he suddenly felt like divesting his sins.  
  
"Oh God, Sam, I'm sorry."  
  
"What for?" She was still smiling, heartened by his response to her present.  
  
"For everything. For acting like a jerk. For having a bad temper when I'm  
injured. Et cetera." Sam giggled, and he chastised by poking his thumb,  
thoroughly surrounded by her hand, against her thigh.  
  
"So you'll be nice to Janet and take your medicine without complaint?"  
  
"Yes, mom."  
  
"And you won't harass her nursing staff anymore?"  
  
"Yes, mom."  
  
"Good. I wouldn't want to have to take more drastic measures to get your  
cooperation next time." It was his turn to smile. Still staring up at the  
ceiling, he looked at the constellations, eventually reaching up with his other  
hand to point one out.  
  
"See, there's Cassiopeia." Sam squinted at the general direction Jack was  
pointing in.  
  
"Oh yeah. I see what you mean about the side ways 'W'."  
  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
  
Her hand reached for the doorknob, twisting it gently till the latch released.  
Slowly she pushed open the door, panicking when her eyes came across an empty  
bed. Her first thought was of her patient and how he had managed to escape.  
  
Something else captured her attention. A strange orb sat on the tray table,  
streaming light from little holes. Her eyes followed the direction of the  
light, glancing up to the ceiling to see a star pattern. It still didn't  
explain where her patient had gotten off to, but it made her more curious.  
Stepping further into the room, Janet glanced around in the dim light.  
  
Turning her head, she caught the glint of light off of something metal,  
immediately capturing her attention. Creeping closer, Janet looked down and  
recognized the two figures curled up on the floor. Both were asleep, close  
enough in their positions to be comforting, but respectful. Her head rested  
against his shoulder as she held his hand within hers, perfectly content to be  
on the floor. He was stretched out on a bed of pillows, cushioning his injuries  
from the hardness beneath him. His face was turned toward her as he softly  
snored, the breath from his open mouth blowing against a few wisps of her hair.  
  
Janet couldn't help but smile. She knew from the picture that Sam had managed  
to soothe the savage beast, with dinner and with a star show. If she was able  
to get Jack out of bed and on the floor, then his days of being stubborn were  
over. For at least that injury, she reminded herself.  
  
Carefully as not to awaken the sleepers, Janet took a few steps backwards  
before reaching for the door, slipping out silently. Grabbing a scrap of paper  
off of a nearby table, she scribbled a few words on it, taping it to the door  
when she was done. Stepping back, she glanced at her handy work.  
  
"Do not disturb." Adjusting her lab coat over her petite frame, she moved back  
towards her office. "Sleep well, you two. You deserve it."  
  
  



End file.
